


When We Ruled the World

by Corehealer



Category: Ascian - Fandom, Final Fantasy XIV, Shadowbringers - Fandom
Genre: Crisis of Faith, Existential Crisis, F/M, Gen, Hope, Longing, Masks, Memory, Memory Loss, Other, Redemption, Regret, Reunions, The Convocation of Fourteen (Final Fantasy XIV), True Love, dialectic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:21:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27450052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corehealer/pseuds/Corehealer
Summary: A one shot, reader insert fic from Emet-Selch's perspective. Post 5.0/5.3 spoilers. Reader insert female coded WoL. Emet/WoL ship.Something of a dialectic on Emet-Selch and the nature of several aspects of his personality. Principally, his outward versus inward nature. His beliefs and hopes. His motives and the conflicts between them over time. Shifts between periods of time, including time as Solus, as Emet, and as just Hades.Written in a sudden spark of inspiration, but also just as a means of exploring some themes for a moment outside the context of my main series, for my own elucidation. Getting them down on paper so to speak. It can be considered somewhat incomplete, given the subject matter versus it's length, but as a first stab at it, I think it works well to illustrate what I find perhaps is most compelling in him as a character.
Relationships: Solus zos Galvus | Emet-Selch/Reader, Solus zos Galvus | Emet-Selch/Warrior of Light
Comments: 2
Kudos: 31





	When We Ruled the World

_They make the same mistakes, over and over._

_They forget._

_And they never really know why._

***

T’was only a few short years, before the Final Days. That moment. One of the Convocation’s annual addresses to the city. You remember it like it was yesterday.

All citizens in attendance, shuffling forth in silent procession towards the Capitol, all manner of robes in blacks, whites and greys, muted against the majesty of Amaurot and her towering spires glinting gold and blue in the evening’s fading light. The masks of your people gazing silently upward in regard for the burgeoning starlight, and the caress of the cool wind as it filtered through the many buildings, full of canyon-like expanses.

So many colours… so many roles… but all bent in gratitude now to you Fourteen. Stewards above all equals in service to the Star.

You sat among them, seated near to the furthest left as Lahabrea spoke to those assembled, recounting some matter or other of the prior year’s achievements, the details now lost to you. Of new creations and new cross cultural dialogues with the other cities. Elidibus’ handiwork; the young man was ever gifted with the tact and acumen necessary for an Emissary.

You’d been there not long ago when he had been placed in that position. An unusually unseasoned candidate, you did allow, but one for whom the role was as a fish to water. He moved among your cousins in distant cities as easily as Nabriales regarded the passage of celestial bodies, as easily as Mitron gazed into deep ocean abysses, as easily as Halmarut nurtured an old growth forest.

As easily as Azem sojourned along the horizon’s edge, a fading speck against the trailing sun, filling you with deepest longing.

He looked up to her, that weary, wandering woman to your left, the last in the line of Fourteen, most of all. Almost perhaps as much as you did, in your love and admiration for her. The most beautiful light in this scene full of stars.

Would that you could but hold your hand out to hold her own, one more time…

***

“Legatus Galvus?”

Her smiling face fades. A sigh.

You make the same mistakes, over and over. Expecting, _hoping_ for something more alike to that time in these… half men. And their endless, inane questions.

You bite out in somewhat uncharacteristic annoyance at the man, one of your lieutenants overseeing the line. Interruption of fond memories was a cardinal sin, however unfair for the unknowing victim.

“ _What is it_?!”

He faltered back a step, black armor of a centurion flashing slightly in the lantern light of your command tent. He assumed he had given offense; would that he could know his whole pitiful existence is an offense.

Alas.

“M-my apologies, Legatus; I f-felt it prudent to make you aware that our first line has engaged the Landian line, and is presently moving to outflank the van along the southern front, at the base of this cliff here outside the main city gate. L-light casualties.” He pointed in quick motion to a spot marked upon the map before you, on your command desk. His hand shaking slightly.

The Republic of Landis. One of your early campaigns. The means by which you were to demonstrate your superior military genius to these fools, both those in your midst, the Garleans, and those ‘savages’ who wielded what passed for magic in this age, in pale imitation of the true world’s heritage.

Garlemald and its people a labour that had been molded over generations, centuries, to be carefully pruned of the faults that had made Allag and others among your past works susceptible to failure before the appointed hour. Now bereft of magic of their own, they relied on you and your carefully crafted magitek solutions, an imitation themselves of Allagan ingenuity, to wring vengeance and so called glory from their supposed lessers.

You created the circumstances. You created the means. You built up the resentments, year over year. And then set the hounds loose, eager to do your bidding.

This time, there would be nothing left to chance to ensure the appropriate execution of the Seventh Rejoining. No half measures. No compromises.

An empire to ensure the expedient application of the necessary conditions. In the face of this, each small success provided the steps you would need. And prepare fertile ground for your brothers and sisters.

You nod to the man. Another sigh and shift of tone. The mask back on your face. A weak smile.

“ _The apologies are mine, ser, for the outburst; it has been a stressful day, ensuring each piece is in place. I thank you for this update. Tell the Third and Sixth Legions to begin their assaults now as planned and deploy the magitek reserves here, here and here anon_.” You pointed to locations along the city’s northern perimeter.

“Yes Legatus!” A curt salute. A surer response.

You could at least offer him a small measure of relief, so that he did not fail in this simple task. He might be dead by the end of the day, after all, assuming he made it to the end of the battlefront.

As he left the tent, you were once again left alone with your thoughts, bedecked in the armor of your high office, surrounded by various magitek communication devices and rudimentary comforts as befitted a battlefield command. Trinkets to you, mainly kept for the purposes of appearance.

What need had you, after all, for imperfections such as armor and-

“You always were in such a hurry to cast off their gifts. They made them just for you!”

You stopped, looking around as if to hear something that had been beyond your mind’s eye.

Her voice. Another memory, come unbidden from your subconscious. A small fragment. An admonishment.

She’d been upset with you for tossing aside some heartfelt piece of art or clothing or other bauble from one of the smaller communities, outside of Amaurot. A gift for the Traveler and her Architect. Trinkets to you, but she saw their context more clearly. Their worth.

Their worth.

What is the worth of such things? Such… people?

What had she seen in them? Would she see something now that you didn’t see in these people?

Tapping fingers on the command desk as you regained composure. Such a foolish thing to ask yourself.

You’d never know now. You knew that. You _knew_ why.

Given that you’d long since made the choice that’d left you all alone…

A solitary tear down your face. For a mercy, no other of your army would come calling for at least half a bell to see you in this moment of vulnerability.

***

You forgot, now. Why it had felt that way back then.

Many years later. A missive in your hand, as you sat at your desk alone late at night, within the Imperial Palace. A great white beard resting across your face and chest now with age, furrowed in your hand as you read. It regarded news of Basch’s impending success in Dalmasca. The Fourth, his pet project, proceeding apace.

He was untrustworthy, this Gabranth, as Varis mused to you often in private. The sycophants of court said much the same in hushed tones.

Never an honest word to be had in this oppressive place.

You knew this. It mattered little.

Garlemald’s unity was as much a lie as its underlying ideology, so repugnant to you as it was. So unalike to what men should be in relation to one another. But this was the price of change, as it had been time and again. And you would pay it and use this tool as any other until it was spent. Should it break, it would be replaced just like all the other times.

As long as he and his son remained glued to your grandson via shared necessity, you’d need not worry much. One legion hardly a match for all fourteen.

Fourteen. An almost amusing coincidence. A consequence of the rapid expansion of your nation, not one of design.

Fourteen… each a legion unto oneself. Powerful mages and philosophers all. Their faces all writ into your soul, their masks adorning your heart like a shroud…

Your single light a fading spark against an increasingly dark sky, lost to reason, lost to the true path.

You wondered often, in these late hours, what it had all meant. What it had all been for.

Zodiark, certainly, came first to mind as always. That familiar scratching claw in the back of your head, sometimes soothing, other times biting. Always cloying after any thoughts that bespoke dissent or doubt. Even now, as you mused on these things, you could feel its grasp close in around you from the shadows cast by your pale, yellow magitek lights.

You switched them off with a snap of your fingers, no longer needing them, and allowed the claws to embrace you. Chill your blood and bones and aether. His whispering like a wind from the void, where none should be.

Doubt fading again in that familiar certainty. This was the only way. It was. It had always been. Just as you three had realized upon the death of the Thirteenth. When you had left behind all remaining pretense and distraction and begun this great work. No more time left to mourn except every waking moment.

Doubts came more often these days, moreso then before. You couldn’t quite place why. Something about this age felt different. But His hand was never far away to correct you.

You stared blankly out at the window beyond your desk. Stars in the sky.

Fourteen.

Would that you could just join them, and let it all go.

***

You never really knew why.

Why you couldn’t let go.

Zodiark alone was a poor excuse for all of this. She’d said as much before the summoning. She’d say as much now, were she here to see you. What you’d become.

Would she still love you at the end of all of this? Once duty was at its end?

You’d thought about that many times, over the long millennia, but only in brief moments of weakness. Your Lord quick to remind you of the tasks at hand.

Oddly enough, this time, Zodiark refrained from his grasp, allowing you the chance to mull it over more. Mayhap it was the First’s abundant Light that stayed his hand and influence. You couldn’t say for sure.

It was mildly… refreshing. Relieving, even as the Light itself stung and gave you a headache. Requiring frequent rests, in lieu of the slumber you had undertaken at Solus’ end.

You’d had to leave that rest behind because of them.

Why was it, time and time again, that your brothers and sisters felt the need to falter and fail and require your hand to guide them? Were they truly so far removed now from what they had been to require so much more of your energy? Your time?

They were supposed to be representative of all you had laboured after for thousands of years. And yet they couldn’t even kill a handful of ‘adventurers’ on a misbegotten shard of the true world. Pitiful reflections of even the Source’s sundered shards, and yet, they had undone Loghrif and Mitron, if only briefly.

It had been enough to require a much firmer hand on the wheel of fate. Elidibus had been adamant.

His folly now your mess to clean up while he took the reins of events in Garlemald and elsewhere on the Source. His pet projects themselves beginning to falter in turn thanks to the one you now watched over here.

You thought on this too as you sat within one of the Greatwood’s many large trees, fresh from a nap whilst letting the Source’s hero go about her work with her Scions. Uncovering Ronkan mysteries and ingratiating themselves among the locals. Eager to learn of all this world had to offer them as they strived to undo the hard work of your erstwhile compeers.

These heroes at least seemed more deserving of the title. Her most especially. Efficient and generous. Not always a pleasure to interact with, given how much they looked at you like they wanted you to be anywhere else in the world. But a refreshing change from Garlemald.

“You plan to spend all day up there, Ascian?” Her now increasingly familiar voice, calling up to you alone from below the tree.

With a snap of your fingers you were at her level on the ground, standing an ilm from her to her mild surprise, smirking.

“ _If only I could; alas I am given over to my promise to observe, and observe I shall. After short naps to overcome this stifling Light, of course_.”

“If its really so bad, I could break out an umbrella. Gives a bit better shade then the leaves alone.”

“ _I have no need for your mortal contrivances to shield me from this overabundance of Light, and in any case it would simply pass through any of your little toys and still sting my eyes and soul both_.”

She frowned, having already been half into her bags to find the item in question. She retracted her arms back to her sides, staring at you for a moment. Taking you in again.

Silence for a moment, the ringing sky above the only real sense of passing time.

“It seems like such a burden.”

“ _Hm_?” A raised eyebrow.

“Your… everything. The way you walk. The way you talk. The way you constantly have to hide how you feel around us. Around me. The way you dance around things, and constantly have answers that just raise more questions.”

She regarded you intensely. Eyes exploring every inch of you, grasping after something unseen.

“Don’t you ever get tired of wearing masks all the time?”

“ _I shouldn’t think so, no. You can already guess as to the fondness my kin and I have for such things_.”

“And I understand. I do.”

“ _That I doubt, hero_.”

“Is it really? So hard for you to understand? How I could ever empathize with you, of all people?”

She paced around you, words driving into you from every angle.

“Sure, we might be on opposite sides of the board. You have every reason to hate me for what I’ve done to your friends. I have every reason to hate you for what you’ve done to mine. And I can’t claim to understand all your motives…”

She paused, then looked back up at you anew.

“But… I have to imagine you had a good reason for all of this. All of this striving, all the things you’ve done. Even if they ended in failure.”

She approached close to you, closer than she had been previously, at any prior point.

“I’ve… I’ve been so alone, my entire life. I’ve worn a mask like yours around them, my friends and family and loved ones my entire life. Worn my duty to Hydaelyn, to my people, to all people, all my life. Never really knowing why. And… until I met you, here in this place, I never truly realized just how much that weighed on my heart.”

A hand, pressed to your coat’s hem, feeling for the warmth beneath, gently.

“I realized it because I could see it in you, too. The way you carry it all around, whatever it is. Whatever all of this is for…”

She… what?

“Of all the people I’ve ever met, you’ve been, oddly enough, the only one who’s ever seemed to be capable of understanding how I feel. And you’re supposed to be my enemy!”

She looked down at the ground now, retracting her hand suddenly, seeming to realize what she’d been doing.

A pause.

“You wanted to cooperate, and I want to as well. But… I have to understand why.”

You had to scramble a bit to respond, and not show too much, too soon.

“ _Is there a point in this somewhere, hero_?”

There was something about this exchange, free from her companions, that… hit a bit closer to home then you expected. But you couldn’t afford for her to see the mark she left.

A sigh from her, and a huff of disappointment.

“I suppose… I suppose not. Maybe later you’ll be more willing to be honest with me. To be open with me about why you seem so familiar. Why you wear this mask.”

Familiar…

“ _Trust is an earned thing, hero. You of all people should understand that. Now get back out there and show me why I should, and then maybe we can continue this conversation_.”

She started to walk away, but suddenly stopped, and turned to face you once more.

“Whatever your reasons then… for this… I just want you to know… I appreciate you trying. And… for giving me a chance.”

Understanding…

“ _The feeling is mutual, Warrior of Light. I will endeavour not to let my feelings about your Mother prevent me from finding this common ground I have desired_.”

A small glimmer.

She smiled at you.

“ _Now, off you go_.”

She nodded, and returned to her departure.

You’d almost think she still loved you after all this time.

A foolish notion, to think…

To think this Warrior of Light anything more than a memory…

And yet.

You watched her walk into the distance, back towards her companions among the Nights Blessed, wind whipping through her hair even as it passed in turn under your epaulets and the folds of your imperial regalia.

The familiar fragrance of her soul flowing from her to you along the currents. That colour… dim but…

No.

It could not be her.

It couldn’t.

…

Could it?

***

Who was this woman? Had you forgotten her?

There was a gaping hole in your chest. Blue light beginning to stream out of you in drifting particles.

Her eyes were beginning to tear up. She knew something. She probably had no real idea yet.

At least you’d left her the means, just in case, so she’d know later. A mercy or a burden? That would be up to her to decide.

You’d acted rashly then, when you’d made the stone. And, more recently, when you’d made the city’s memory for her. In suspicion and hope. But… it was the last thing you could think to do now, still given over to His service. What more could you hope to accomplish?

You’d long since ceased to be the man she loved. Time had eaten away at you.

You’d seen… something a moment ago. Before this casting off of masks and burdens.

You’d given everything. Everything. All that you had left.

It hadn’t been enough. You’d been beaten by a malformed creature. By a…

A… by a…

“ _Azem_?”

“Hades.” She parroted the words of your true name, in a low and stifled voice. Unsure now of what she had done. Some distant realization coming to her.

And now, to you. At long last.

Too late. It’d been too late.

At least the Light was gone, expended now harmlessly to her. Her precious world saved. Whatever worth she saw…

No.

You could see it too, now.

In that exchange, the honest expression of conviction. No more lies or fumbling half-truths. You had desired to take all of it in. Take her measure, her worth. To know why she had chosen now, _NOW_ of all times, to return to you in this way. In this form. To serve Her will and defend this monumental tragedy that you had lived and worked to undo all your long life.

Consciousness was fading. Zodiark was gone. Another memory now, not that it would last.

She reached out to touch. You raised a hand. It was too late now.

“ _Remember us_.”

“ _Remember that we once lived_.”

She was shaking, a tear now on her face.

It was too late.

At least… at least it hadn’t all been for nothing.

At least she would remember.

“Hades…”

“ _Remember… what we once were_.”

The last thing through your mind was her weeping in your ears, arms passing through your fading aether.

***

_You had made those same mistakes, over and over._

_You had forgotten._

_And you never really knew why…_

_Until now._

What had you been doing again? So much had happened, it was hard to keep track of it all. To remember.

A bullet casing under your boot. You leaned down to pick it up and regard it for a moment before placing it in a bin.

A broom, of all things, in your hand. Sweeping clean streets you had once ruled. Garlemald now a charred husk, in the wake of great struggles. Titanic battles and desperate sacrifices. Succession crises passing over and over across its frigid exterior, stark and bleak.

The hopes of Eorzean steel and the light of dawn laying bare the lies of your past, imprinted in every stone and cermet bulkhead.

Architecture like this a crime against the Star, you now thought as you swept, compared to what you were capable of. But in that other life, you’d not needed to think overlong on aesthetic qualities, only practicality and what best elicited fear.

To keep paths of fate in line. Always with the goal to reach again for the time when, once more, you could recreate that which was truly beautiful in the world.

But… you hadn’t, really. Not then. Not before. Not now, certainly. You’d lost what had made life worth living in this endless war fought in ignorance and delusion.

You’d lost yourself. Lost them, even through slipping fingers, year over year.

You’d been following someone else’s tune, just as much as any other had followed yours. A cruel jest, but one that had been as much of your own making as it had been that of any others among the Convocation.

Save for one.

The one who had, more then any other, been the reason that you’d persisted. Why you had tried, even without Zodiark at your back.

The one who had dissented, and had left. Who you had never forgiven, but also never forgotten. The one who had meant everything to you, in that age and all the ages of the world.

The one who had showed you kindness, even in her ignorance, and had showed you the smallest inkling of what she saw. In them. In this new existence, fleeting and… imperfect as it was.

Something genuine, all the same. Something… remarkable, in their striving.

You’d never noticed it quite like this before, akin as they had seemed to grains of sand alike the ones you now swept aside along with broken glass.

The woman who, not a day ago now, had strode into the long awaited chamber. The cloning facility below the palace. To where your ‘form’ was arrayed in dormancy, ready for a soul’s touch that would never come.

Except, it did.

She’d spent a long time searching, and had almost lost hope before that day. Seeking a solution. To pluck you from your rest as Elidibus had, but this time for something very different in purpose.

The woman who was the first thing you’d seen when you opened your eyes anew in stark disbelief, the emptiness of death now parting as her tears draped your cheeks and her lips found yours. Her stone of office clutched close at hand.

The anchor of her hopes and dreams, and of yours in turn. Wherein, eventually, she had found the solution, and duly applied it at the end of a long road.

That radiant woman on the distant horizon line. Who you now looked up to see, walking towards you down the rubble strewn streets of your great work.

“ _Hello again, hero. Is aught amiss_?”

No words at first, just a hug. A long lost embrace that now accompanied every meeting, a new reunion sweeter than the last. Tired from the fighting, now relenting to a moment’s peace with her own regrets, being set aright. A chance to begin again, for a better future.

A silent bliss, broken when she finally did deign to speak.

“You missed a spot.”

A snap of your fingers. A broom now in her hand.

“ _You wouldn’t mind providing me with some assistance, would you_?”

You gave her your best pout, tuned to elicit maximum sympathy. She scoffed, looking up at you with those beautiful eyes, watering ever so slightly with tears.

Yours were too, truth be told.

“I think I can spare a moment for His Eminence…”

***

You spent that night atop one of the still standing structures outside the main airship hangers, near the Imperial Palace, the large edifice itself more damaged than most. Looking up at the sky, away from the activity of her companions and allies below as they attended the aftermath.

She sat next to you, staring out at the night sky, not unlike how it had been when you’d been in your office those many years ago now, not far from here.

You’d spent a bell showing her the patterns of ancient days, as Amaurot’s people had seen the sky and its constellations. What they had meant. What they had represented. Which ones were most associated with the Convocation.

And the ones that were representative of her seat, and yours.

“ _Even the Sun deserves stars at her side, after all_.” You concluded, resting your hand in hers as she smiled up at you.

“And I’m glad they’ve come home to me, at long last.”

You’d finally let go. Whatever came next, you’d see it at her side. At long last.

“ _Tis good to feel the sun upon my skin again, hero_ …”

A long pause, listening to crickets and the faint calls of men and women working far below.

“You really are a hopeless sap sometimes, aren’t you Hades?”

A chuckle from you both. She wasn’t wrong.

“ _Hopelessly in love, perhaps. But better that, then what I’ve been doing, in any case_.”

“Gods, you really are.” A playful smile, shaking her head as if she didn’t know what she was doing.

She placed a mask, some wooden trinket from Gridania, on your face. A pale imitation of the memories the shards had of Convocation masks. Dyed red like the fallen moon.

It fit, funnily enough. Settling a soft shadow on your face.

“Wear the mask sometimes, even so. It’s entertaining, to watch you tease and strut around the way you do. And then…” She removed it in a swift motion to place her forehead to yours.

“When it pleases you, or when it all gets to be too much again, let me see how hopeless you really are. And I’ll be sure to pick you up, and help you find what you’ve lost again. Just like you helped me.”

Silence for a moment. Thought ceasing in her renewed embrace.

A solitary tear. Even in a diminished existence, she was everything.

More beautiful than any other star.

A kiss. You couldn’t help but relent, at long last. A deep sigh, holding back further waterworks. Eyes simply admiring hers, beaming at you.

“ _Thank you… For never giving up on hopeless old Hades_.”

“And thank you. For never forgetting me.”

At the end of the day, at the end of the long road of life, even with so much left to do, to say, to see, you understood at last what you’d been doing. What you’d been fighting for. What the great work had really been. What you’d lost, and what you’d found again.

And it had all been worth it, in the end.

**Author's Note:**

> As is the case with my formal series shipping Emet-Selch with my Warrior of Light, I italicize Emet's speech here out of respect and admiration for him and to add definition to his words when he speaks in a scene. Just for clarification.


End file.
